At ten past ten in the morning I sit in front of the TV, staring blankly at the moving images but not actually hearing whatever it is that Jake says to Captain Holt. Stella chuckles from where she sits on the other sofa so, whatever it is, it must be funny. We're all low-key obsessed with 'Brooklyn Nine Nine' in this house, although I can't keep my attention away from my phone long enough to appreciate this particular episode.

It sits on the arm of the sofa next to me, screen blank and silent. I haven't heard from Bailey at all and she's been gone for the best part of four hours by now. The lack of contact is either a really good or a really bad sign. I'm praying for the former.

I have to keep reminding myself that this isn't the first time she's gone off to the Coleman's. She's been once before and was fine that time, and for all I know she could've been secretly sneaking off to meet Alex ever since. She only needs me today because she's going to be gone for an indefinite amount of time, the whole day if the two of them are seriously going to try and cram nine films in, but it would be easy to make up some excuse to Stella about after school detentions so they could hang out for just an hour or two. Stella and George wouldn't even question it, neither would I. She's always getting in trouble at school anyway.

When Stella asked I did as I promised Bailey I would and lied through my teeth. She bought it, as Bailey knew she would, and went on about how nice it was to see Bailey coming out of her shell a bit. It's not very often she goes to hang out with friends. Unsurprisingly, most people usually piss her off.

Unless they're Alex Coleman, apparently.

I frown at the thought, face twisting like I've eaten something sour. I quickly smooth it out when Stella turns to look at me, though.

"Do you think the boys are actually planning on getting out of bed today?" she wonders, the question including George who is also yet to surface from the confinements of their bedroom. Neither he nor Stella were woken up by Bailey's banging about this morning which just goes to show how tired they must've been. They both work much too hard, it can't be good for them.

George works as a bank manager and Stella is a copyeditor, often able to do most of her work from home. That doesn't stop her from working her butt off, though, especially now that us kids have grown up a bit and don't need constant supervision.

"Probably not."

There's a knock at the door and Stella and I frown in confusion, as far as I know no one's expecting anyone today. Then a sinking feeling forms in the pit of my stomach and I jump up before Stella has the chance to.

"I'll get it," I call out, already heading for the front door.

Something's wrong with Bailey, something's wrong with Bailey, something's wrong with Bailey, something's wrong with-

"Hey," I say, somewhat surprised as I find my boyfriend standing on the other side of the door, a bright smile on his face and a bunch of carnations (my favourite flower) held in his hand.

His smile fades slightly as he takes in the sight of me, still barefoot in my pyjamas.

"You forgot," he says it as a statement not a question and, just like that, I remember. We're supposed to be making up for last weekend today but with my mind so focussed on Bailey I completely forgot.

"Oh, shoot," I say, slapping my hand to my forehead as the guilt suddenly zips through me. "I'm so sorry."

I'm such a bad girlfriend.

He shakes off my apology, smile returning. "Well, that's okay, we can always just stay here-"

"No," I shake my head. "We agreed on a day out and a day out we will have. Just give me, like, fifteen minutes to get ready. Then I'm all yours."

"Sounds good to me," he says, his words making me smile. I look at the flowers in his hand, an array of reds, pinks and whites.

"Are those for me?"

"Nah," he replies, lifting up the flowers to study them before shrugging. "They're for my other girlfriend."

I scoff and roll my eyes. "Oh, please. As if you could handle two girls."

He laughs a little and hands me the flowers, to which I smile and blush slightly. Somehow, this guy still manages to make me feel as if we're going on our first ever date. It's a good feeling, excitement and nervousness all rolled into one, although without the bout of nausea I felt right before our actual first date.

It had been my first ever date with a guy, a guy I really liked no less, so it's safe to say I'd been a complete mess. Megan had to come over and calm me down, help me figure out what to wear and all but push me out the door when it was eventually time to go. I am so glad she did. Without her, I might not have gone.

"Thanks," I murmur, motioning for him to come into the house. "Come on in, you can wait in the living room. Stella's in there watching TV."

He does as told whilst I head in search of a vase, placing the flowers in some water and taking them up to my room before I get changed. I settle on a pair of denim shorts and a cute white top, lace running down its long sleeves. I run a brush through my hair and add a touch of makeup to my face, just some mascara and lip gloss, before grabbing my handbag and heading back downstairs. I have a pair of white trainers down in the hallway and quickly stuff my feet into them before entering the living room.

Dylan and Stella are mid-conversation when I appear, talking about Stella's work from the sounds of it, but they stop talking when they see me.

"Ready!" I announce and Dylan smiles.

"You two go and have fun," Stella says with a warm smile. She's grown quite fond of Dylan over the time we've been together. To begin with she was in her mother-hen mode, unsure whether we were right for each other as if he'd proposed instead of simply asking me to the cinema. But then she saw how I was with him, how much he made me smile. Apparently she hadn't seen me so happy in, well, ever. She always said I was far too serious as a kid, even after I was actually able to be a kid. As soon as she saw me come home one day with a grin that could rival the Cheshire cats, she hopped on the Dylan support train.

"We will," I reply, picking my phone up and dropping it in my bag. I check first to see if there are any missed calls from Bailey but there's nothing. No missed calls, no voicemails, no messages.

Please be okay.

Dylan and I leave the house, closing the door behind us and making our way out onto the pavement. He reaches for my hand and tugs me to a stop after only a few steps, pulling me in for our first kiss of the day. He makes it a good one, too.

"Hey," he says when he finally pulls back, putting enough space between us to talk.

"Hi," I giggle, wrapping my arms around his neck as his hands sit on my waist. "What was that for?"

"Because I love you," he says as if it should be obvious, smiling. "And because I've been looking forward to this summer for ages and it's finally here."

"I love you too." I kiss him again before continuing. "And speaking of summer, what's the plan for today?"

"Whatever you want," he shrugs, tilting his head slightly as he considers our options. "Ice cream, cinema, bowling... it's up to you."

"Ice cream sounds good," I say. We haven't been to the little parlour in the centre of town for months. "Is it too early for ice cream?"

"Babe," he waves off the question, taking my hand again. "It's never too early for ice cream."

I laugh and we start walking.

"So how was the party?" I ask as we walk. He shrugs.

"Would've been better if you were there," he nudges me with his elbow and I roll my eyes, "but it was alright, I guess. I only stayed for a few hours. Some of Neil's friends began to piss me off."

I don't need to ask which friends he's on about, already having seen for myself the kind of people Neil associates with outside of school. Regular customers of the Coleman's, I'm beyond positive.

"Well, then I'm glad I missed it." I roll my eyes. "Megan said she was going. Did you see her?"

"Yeah," he replies with a shrug. "I saw her hanging around with Greg for a while."

I smile a little at that, hoping that she's finally decided to give things with Greg a shot. He's a nice guy and already knows how to deal with her occasional brash outbursts, they'd be good together.

"How was work?" Dylan asks. I know what he's really asking.

"They were there," I tell him, to which he frowns and shakes his head. "But it's not so bad," I tag on quickly. "They don't seem that bad unless you actively do something to piss them off."

Well, most of them anyway.

I think back to Lucas Coleman's unrelenting stares, his blunt attitude and clear distaste for so much as breathing in my vicinity. I don't care what Ellie says, the dude doesn't appear to be my biggest fan.

"Maybe you should find a new job," Dylan suggests, my words apparently doing nothing to comfort him. I stare at him in disbelief.

I can't quit my job! For one thing, I love it too much, and there's no way in hell I'm letting the Coleman's chase me out of work. I refuse to let them win like that.

"I'll be fine," I assure him. "They'll get bored of the place soon and move on."

He doesn't seem convinced but, thankfully, he drops the subject.

When we reach the little ice cream parlour, Dylan holds the door open for me and I thank him and walk inside, my eyes instantly assaulted by the bright colours of the cheery interior.

"Do you remember the last time we were here?" I ask as we make our way to the end of the queue. There are only three customers in front of us so the wait won't be long.

"How could I forget?" he chuckles. "I'm surprised the wallpaper didn't stain."

The last time we were here there had been a couple breakup happening in the far corner booth. It hadn't been pretty. The girl was screaming words at such a decibel that only dogs could understand her and the guy had called her an "immature woman-baby" (yes, those were his actual words). Long story short, ice cream was thrown and the workers here had to scrape it off the walls after asking the pair to leave. It had been very entertaining for a Saturday afternoon, that's for sure.

When we reach the front of the queue we order our ice cream, Dylan opting for bubble gum whilst I choose mint choc chip.

"Are you okay, babe?" he asks as we sit at a table by the front window. I zone back out of my thoughts, realising that I've just been staring at my half-eaten ice cream like some complete weirdo. No wonder he looks kind of worried.

"Fine," I tell him, beginning to feel like the worst girlfriend ever. Here I am with this great guy who buys me flowers and ice cream, and all I can think about is my dumb kid sister. If she's in some kind of trouble right now then she really only has herself to blame.

I immediately feel guilty for thinking that and check my phone. Still nada.

"Are you sure?" he asks, frowning a little as he watches me return my phone to my bag. "Because I'm pretty sure this is the fifth time you've checked your phone since sitting down."

Actually, it was probably more like the tenth time, and we've only been sat here for five minutes.

"Yeah, I'm just... worried about Bailey," I admit with a sigh. "Sorry."

"Is she okay?" he asks, his forehead immediately crinkling with concern.

And that, right there, is why I love this guy. Bailey hates him, goes out of her way to piss him off every time they're in the same room as each other, and he still cares for her wellbeing. I can't say it would be the same if the roles were reversed. Bailey wouldn't give two shits about him.

"I think so," I say. "She's just... she's gone out for the day and I'm worried she's going to get herself in trouble."

"Where is she?"

"At the cinema with some friends," the lie tastes bitter in my mouth and I quickly spoon in some ice cream to try and get rid of it.

Again I say that I am an awful girlfriend.

I promised Bailey I would cover with Stella and George, but Dylan? I just don't want him to know because I already know he'll react badly.

"Well, then, I'm sure she'll be fine," he assures me, completely oblivious to the lying on my part. "There's only so much trouble you can cause in a cinema."

"Have you met Bailey?" I ask sarcastically.

"Yes. She's hot-headed but she isn't dumb." Oh, if only he knew. "She'll be fine."

"I guess." I know I don't sound convinced.

"Why don't you text her?" he suggests, nodding at my bag with my phone hidden inside. "See for yourself."

Because if I don't hear back from her I'll be even more worried.

"She probably won't reply."

"But she might," he shrugs. "And if she does then you can stop worrying."

I bite my lip, unsure, before eventually caving. I grab my phone and type out a quick text.

'You okay?'

I hit send and tap my fingers on the table as I wait for a reply. My phone screen lights up only two minutes later.

'Yes'

The relief I feel reading that one word is immense. Dylan seems to sense the change in me.

"All good?" he asks.

"Yeah," I smile, putting my phone away.

"Good," he taps his spoon against my nose lightly and leaves behind a dollop of bright blue ice cream. "Now eat up. We've got a busy day ahead of us."

I crinkle my nose, wipe away the ice cream and dig back into my own.

After finishing at the ice cream parlour we decide to go bowling, booking a lane and swapping our trainers over for the unflattering clown shoes always given out at bowling alleys. Dylan buys us drinks before we start, and I'm proud to report that I well and truly whoop his ass at the game – and the two games that follow.

"Okay, okay," he laughs as I celebrate bowling yet another strike. "I admit it, you're not too shabby."

I scoff and roll my eyes as he picks up his weapon of choice (one of the green balls that are too heavy for me) and steps up to bowl. He makes a spare, which is a giant step up from the three he bowled last turn.

"See?" he turns back to me and bows. "I'm on a comeback now, woman. Just you wait. I'll be on your ass in no time."

I laugh and glance at the score, noting the thirty point gap with only three rounds remaining to the game. I raise an eyebrow at him and he grins.

"Shut up. Let a guy repair his ego."

I hold my hands up in surrender and giggle, grabbing my orange ball and stepping up to bowl, kissing him on my way past. I bowl a spare too and turn to poke my tongue out at him. He laughs and shakes his head.

My smile fades slowly when my eyes focus past my boyfriend, further down the room. Shock runs through me like lightning as I see that, for whatever reason, Lucas Coleman is also at the bowling alley. 

I don't know how long he's been here but here he is, dressed in some ripped jeans and a grey T-shirt. He stands near the bar with his back against the far wall, his arms folded and eyes, unfortunately, directed towards me. 

I gulp nervously.

Well, that's not creepy at all...

Dylan steps up to bowl but I'm too distracted to watch, my eyes locked on the eldest Coleman. He doesn't make any acknowledgement that I've noticed him, but me staring at him must be a dead giveaway. His face is schooled into the emotionless mask I've grown all too used to by now, giving away nothing. He doesn't turn away until someone appears from the 'staff only' door and motions him through. I force myself to turn my back on him as Dylan finishes his turn, ending with two split pins that he has no chance of knocking down.

At least I know he's not here because he's following me, although why he'd want to do that I have no idea. Still, the thought of some kind of Coleman power-trip, dodgey-deal business investment going down in this family friendly bowling alley has me feeling uneasy.

When our game ends I decide it's time to leave.

*********